A New World, Material Without Being Real

i drove from the station directly to gatsby's house, and my rushing anxiously up the front steps was the first thing that alarmed anyone. With scarcely a word said, four of us, the chauffeur, butler, gardener and i, hurried toward the pool. There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the fresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other. The touch of a cluster of leaves revolved it, slowly, tracing, like the leg of a compass, a thin red circle in the water. It was after we started with gadsby toward the house, that the gardener saw wilson's body